


Peace Of Mind

by congeries



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Homesickness, M/M, One Shot, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 12:59:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2469062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/congeries/pseuds/congeries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chibs has a wakeful night and feels sleepless...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peace Of Mind

**Author's Note:**

> So, I decided to translate some of my One Shots from German. To be honest, my Englisch isn't very good, but I wanted to give it a try. I did my best. 
> 
> Beta'd by the amazing MintSauce (really, I would be lost without her)

The bottle in his hand wasn't really cold anymore. The glass under his fingers had long since adapted his body temperature. Chibs had no idea how long he'd been sitting there. Two hours, maybe three. He didn't know and he didn't care.

Nor did he know the reason why he was sitting on the only chair that his neglected garden had to offer. The fucking thing creaked with every inch he moved and that it hadn't yet collapsed under his ass was like a miracle anyway. But in that way the chair fit perfectly with the rest of his garden. If you could call it that at all. It was actually just a strip of grass, which led a few feet from his house to the neighbors fence. Chibs mowed the fucking lawn just once a year. The last time he hit a mole with the mower and although he was really not an animal lover, he'd felt sorry for it. That was the reason for chickening out doing it so far this year.

Chibs wasn't particularly tidy in general. Why should he be? He spent most of his spare time at the clubhouse or with his brothers on the street. He just went home to sleep or for the weekends, when there was really nothing to do so. Then he worked on his Dyna or watched some stupid stuff on TV. No one was there who could be bothered by the chaos.

With a sigh, the Son sank deeper into the chair and turned the bottle in his hands. It still smelled of rain. There had been a little shower in the evening, nothing spectacular. It stopped after half and an hour, but the smell of wet grass and fresh air was still clearly perceived, even now, hours later.

For a moment Chibs closed his eyes and consciously breathed in the scent. It reminded him of his homeland. In Scotland – and then later Ireland – it had rained more often than in sunny California. As a child, he had run with his siblings barefoot on the wet meadows, had enjoyed the feel of how the cold grass blades had tickled his bare skin.

Chibs let his free hand dangle at his side and ran his fingers over the grass. Still a little damp, but not really cold. Not like in his homeland. Just smooth, supple as well, but not like in Scotland. He couldn't even say what the difference was, but something was there. The Son sighed again and pulled his hand back. It was never like in his homeland.

After nearly twenty years in America, Chibs had actually become accustomed to this, and had even become so quite quickly. In Charming he had found more than he had ever hoped for. A home. A task. A family. Him. For all that, he was grateful and he really felt at home here. But on some days the homesickness was really enormous. 

Maybe he had crawled out of bed and sat down in the garden because of that. Chibs often woke up at night, but mostly he turned over and went back to sleep. Today that didn't work. He didn't know why, but he didn't even try to. Much rather he enjoyed the silence at night, which a township brought with.

With one last slug Chibs emptied the beer. The drink left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he licked the last drop from his lips and didn't let the bottle go. The weight felt good in his hands and Chibs didn't feel so alone. No matter how pathetic that sounded.

The sound of steps behind him attracted the Son's attention. But nothing more. Chibs was relaxed, he didn't even turn around. By now he knew the sound of those steps by heart, would forever have recognized them. They were familiar to him, and so much more. Chibs could hear bare feet slowly moving across the floor and then stood still in the doorway. One second. Two. Three. Four... "Here you are. Can't you sleep?"

Chibs shook his head, but still didn't turn around. "Go back to bed." His voice was quiet, not annoyed. The other man never stressed him out, not really.

A deep sigh broke the silence, then the steps started again. The Scot's lips curled into a smile, because he could imagine exactly what his friend was thinking right now. How unpleasant it was to go outside barefoot and all the dirt that would probably find its way into the house. But he didn't say a thing, not one word. For that Chibs loved him.

Hands laid on his shoulders, slipped quietly forward until they crossed on his chest. He felt Juice bury his face in his hair and inhaled deeply. Chibs smiled. Typical.

"Go back to sleep", he repeated quietly, but against his words he raised a hand and laid it on the other man's forearm, which he had wrapped around his chest. Absently Chibs stroked over the warm skin. Better than grass.

Behind him Juice snorted and his breath tickled Chibs' neck. Goosebumps sprung up over his skin. "If you say that again, I'll think you want to get rid of me. You really want to listen to my moaning forever?"

"Never."

Chibs would never want to get rid of him. Never ever. He would rather cut off one of his hand. Juice was a part of him that without he wouldn't be complete.

"What are you doing out here? You'll freeze."

"I'm always freezing." Despite being in California, despite the sun, it always seemed to be too cold. Even now he found the light wind just a little bit too fresh, but he still hadn't taken the trouble to pull on more than his black tank top.

"Is everything all right?" The slight edge of concern was obvious in Juice's voice. The cheek that pressed against his own was warm. Juice was always warm. How did he do that?

"Aye, I just can't sleep. Nothing new." He felt it when Juice nodded his understanding. Of course he understood. Nobody knew Chibs better than Juice did. No one else accepted him with all his faults; an old man with an unhealthy dependency on alcohol.

"Shall I leave you alone?"

There it was again, that quiet wisp of uncertainty. It appeared so often, but there was no reason for it. Juice couldn't do anything wrong. Not really. There was nothing that Chibs wouldn't forgive him for.

Juices body language gave away his real feelings and his arms tightened, pulling Chibs closer to the body behind him. Only a tiny bit, but it was noticeable. Juice's cheek nestled against his, as if he wanted to get as much contact as possible before he was sent away.

As if Chibs would ever. How could he?

"Nah, all good." Everything was fine, everything was all right. At least for now.

A wispy smile. Relieved exhale. Not loud, but quietly. Secretly, as always. Like everything they did. Hidden. Alone. It was just the two of them, keeping this between them. It was better that way. Chibs couldn't imagine... The Son shook his head slightly. He wouldn't. Not now, not here.

"Penny for your thoughts..."

Fingers brushed through his hair, tucking the individual strands away from his face. Chibs' scalp tingled pleasantly at the touch and he tilted his head slightly to one side, exhaled heavily and closed his eyes.

"Just a penny?" 

Chibs could literally feel how the other man grinned, could see his face in his mind's eye. "Yes."

"You can keep your penny then."

And then it was quiet. Completely silent. Neither of them said another word and neither of them needed to. The silence was pleasant and Chibs enjoyed it, focused entirely on the hand in his hair and on Juice's breath that he could easily feel against his face. The smell of him that was so familiar, relaxing him slowly.

In such moments Chibs was completely calm. Externally and internally. This was a state that he couldn't even reach after a bottle of whiskey and numerous beers. No, only Juice could bring him to this point, no one else, and Chibs was so incredibly grateful. Peace. Homeland. Not quite like in Scotland, but not worse or better, just different. Still no less precious.

After a while he opened his eyes and sighed heavily. "We should go back to bed. We have to be at the clubhouse early."

"I know." But Juice didn't stop, didn't move, didn't let go.

Chibs put his head back, wanted to see him, to say something, but the next moment he felt lips on his and had forgotten every word. The kiss was calm and gentle. Like a promise that could not be given with words and couldn't be answered. Chibs understood anyway and something in his stomach twisted.

A little dazed, he broke the kiss and looked up, looked into those wonderful eyes that were so similar to his own, and yet quite different. In the face he could trace blind, he saw a familiar smile there, which was immediately contagious and reason enough to stand up.

The chair creaked as usual. A familiar sound. Just like the hand that lay on his arm and pulled him gently into the interior of the house. Warm. Familiar. His.


End file.
